To the Rescue
by Nika Dixon
Summary: Who's rescuing who here, anyway? A little R/K one shot for the Winter Exchange on OneSweetLove. Enjoy!


**Written for the OneSweetLove Winter Exchange for ****_liasonfan _who wanted something short and sweet. But of course I can't do anything without a little drama. Enjoy! :P - Nika**

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The guards at the front of the tent were distracted by the distant call of gunfire, both taking a step away from the opening.

Unwilling to pass up such an obvious opportunity, Ronon renewed his fight to reach his blade. His shoulders pulled against the awkward position, and from the strain of fighting the roughly hewn rope. Kneeling on the cold, dry ground, he'd been forced back on his heels, and his wrists bound to his ankles around one of the supporting tent posts. If he could just reach the knife in his boot, it would be _game over_, as Sheppard was fond of saying. But the position of the bindings around his heels made it almost impossible to reach more than the edge of his pant leg.

He cursed under his breath, then froze when a hand gripped the rope between his wrists and gave a snapping tug. Thin, delicate fingers slid across the back of his hand.

_Teyla? _

He fought the powerful urge to look over his shoulder for confirmation, choosing instead to keep an eye on the guards out front.

Ronon held firm as the hand slid quickly away from his to slide across to his right ankle. Pressing up under the hem of his pant leg, the fingertips worked their way higher to the hilt of his knife, and with a slow, steady pull, extracted the blade, pressing it tightly into his right hand before moving to his left boot to extract the second knife.

He waited until her arm was clear of the material before he tensed, putting pressure on the ropes and giving her something to cut against. He could feel the knife sawing back and forth, pulling up against his bindings. The rope snapped away and the second knife disappeared with the fingers. Rolling onto his side he saw the pale hand, still gripping the hilt of his knife, quickly slide back along the frozen dirt and disappear beneath the edge of the tent. Pale skin – not Teyla.

Orders and shouting from outside the tent froze him in place – but the voices moved quickly past.

A flash of silver turned him back around as a blade drew down the side of the tent from the outside, cutting a long straight strip in the canvas. The movement was slow and precise, slicing deliberately down the length of the tent. When the knife reached the bottom Ronon stepped forward and through, confusion replaced shock and anger.

Jennifer?

Draped head to toe in an over sized brown cloak, the hood covered her face. Yet there was no mistaking it was her slight form half-hidden beneath the cloth, or the strands of long blond hair peeking out from around her neck as she brushed wet slushy snow off her front.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He whispered harshly, grabbing her arm and dragging her roughly into the shadows and away from the tent.

"Rescuing you." She whispered back.

Half of him wanted to kiss her for being so stupidly brave, and the other half wanted to strangle her for being so bravely stupid. She slipped in the slush and he yanked her upright, stepping in behind another tent. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"You're welcome." She whispered back, handing him his other knife. He quickly snaked it back into the side of his boot and lead them around the second tent, putting distance between them and the militant camp.

"How'd you…?"

"Get here? I followed you."

"You followed me."

"Well, I followed them." She pointed towards the other side of the camp. "The Fallions came past the village." She paused. "I heard them planning to stop the villagers from going through the gate." Another pause. "I saw you go all Bruce Lee on half of them before they dragged you back here."

"Bruce Lee?"

"Oh yeah, here." She shook her head and turned towards him. Ronon stared when her hand slipped back under her cloak and returned with his blaster. It had been removed by one of the militia.

"Where'd…" He shook his head quickly.

"They put it in a storage locker over there." She half pointed to her left. "I… figured you'd need it to get us out of here."

"Us?" He grabbed his gun and pushed her ahead of him towards the dark shadows of the forest. They moved quickly through the trees and away from the camp. The twin moons lit the way from high overhead, leaking their light down though the bare branches. Ronon skirted the large trunks, keeping them both to the shadows, hurrying them away from the camp and the ongoing battle.

"Where's Sheppard? Lorne? The Marines?"

"It's just me." She shook her head, wincing when a small explosion sounded in the distance.

"Just… you." He clamped his hand down on her shoulder and spun her around, backing her into the shelter of a large tree trunk while he scouted the forest around them. He chanced a glance down at her. In the dark of night he couldn't see her face but he could pretty much imagine the bright rosy pink tint to her cheeks as his shoulder shrugged beneath his palm.

"Sorry." She mumbled, flipping her right hand through the air and letting it drop.

"I didn't… That's not-" He stopped himself. Damn woman could make him stutter like a small child. After a moment's pause he tried again. "_Where_ is everyone else?"

The covered head beside him bobbed up and down, then shook left and right. "Everyone else was… is… cut off at the gate. No where to go but through."

"They left you behind?" He growled, his chest tight with a mix of anger and shock.

"No." She shook her head. "Well… yes… sort of… maybe. Okay not really."

"And that means?" He turned and continued to guide her through the forest, leaving the sounds of the battle for the silence of the trees.

Jennifer shook her head, her voice quiet. "They might have… you know… told me to… stay… where I was… 'til they got back… with the Jumper."

"You take orders well." Ronon snorted.

"I told Colonel Sheppard I had to set his leg first." She blurted out after several minutes of silence.

"Sheppard broke his leg?!"

"No." She shook her head. "The farmer."

Ronon exhaled with relief, then settled into confusion. "What farmer?"

"The one who broke his leg."

He glanced sideways at her but couldn't see her expression. "That's important because…"

"I tried to tell him I knew where you were, but he couldn't hear me."

"The farmer?"

"No, John."

"John."

"There's no signal in these ravines." She shrugged. "So I came anyway."

Ronon frowned and shook his head. His hand landed on her shoulder and he held her still. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She answered quickly.

A little _too_ quickly.

He narrowed his eyes. "You're talking in circles."

"Sorry." She shrugged her right shoulder against his palm.

"You should have stayed put."

"I couldn't just leave-"

"Yes, you could have." He cut her off. "And that's exactly what you _should_ have done. You're lucky no one saw you…"

"I was careful!" She insisted.

"What if the Fallions had caught you?" He tensed at the thought.

"They didn't." She shook her head.

"If they had?"

"They didn't!"

"Jennifer…" He growled, exasperated.

"Ronon…" She growled back.

Ronon sighed. This was a conversation he was obviously not going to win in this place and time. But it was definitely a conversation he was not going to drop either.

They walked in silence, boots crunching through the snow until the ground took a sharp dip then began to rise upward, cresting over a rise a good thirty feet above their heads. Sight became easier as the trees thinned with the hillside, spilling light from the double moons onto the snow.

"We really need to work on your sense of survival." He mumbled as Jennifer slipped and staggered into a brightly washed area between two trees. "Stick to the shadows."

A few footfalls later and she stumbled again, her hand grabbing for a tree trunk that was a good foot out of her reach. He yanked at the back of the cloak and hauled her upright.

"Whoopsie." She mumbled.

Nearing the crest of the hill she hesitated and stopped. After reaching up under her hood, she tapped him on the back of his hand which still rested around the folds of the cloak. "There's only static until we get over the top of the hill."

Ronon flipped his palm over and took her com, seating it behind his own ear. He activated it but heard nothing but hissing silence. As they crested the rise, surrounded by forest and moonlight, chatter sparked and hissed in his ear but it was nothing distinguishable. He moved them into the dark shadowed shelter of a copse of trees and guided Jennifer towards a fallen trunk, turning her in such a way she had no choice but to sit. "Stay." He ordered.

She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like _ungrateful_ but settled back against the trunk of the tree, wrapping her arms around her torso.

Ronon stared at her for a moment before she waved him off.

"I'm fine." She insisted.

"Don't move." He ordered.

She nodded. "This is me, not moving."

He shook his head and left her muttered iteration behind as he stepped a few feet over the crest of the hill, tapping the com. "Sheppard."

Nothing.

He tried again, a few feet further.

Static hissing and pieces of words.

Near the bottom of the hill he caught snippets of conversation – orders – directions.

"Sheppard." He tried again.

"Ronon?" The snapped reply came back.

"Yeah."

"Hey buddy… we were beginning to wonder where you'd wandered off to." Ronon could hear the smile of relief in the Colonel's voice and couldn't stop his own grin from forming.

"Sorry." Ronon smirked into the darkness, staring in the direction of the gate. "The Fallions wanted to chat."

"I bet they did." John answered. "You still in one piece?"

"Yup." Ronon glanced over his shoulder, back up the hill to the shadow of the trees where he'd left Jennifer. "Thanks to the Doc."

"Doc?" A pause. "Beckett?"

"Beckett?" Ronon shook his head with surprise. "Beckett's here?"

"You said Doc…"

"I meant Keller."

"Keller!" John's voice carried a taste of something Ronon didn't like.

"Yeah, Keller." Ronon stared up the hill at the form that was now reclining along the dead tree-trunk.

"Keller's with you? The Fallions grabbed her too?"

"No."

"No, what? No, she's not with you, or no, the Fallions didn't grab her?"

"Yes, she's with me. And no, she came on her own."

John paused. "Were are you?"

Ronon frowned. "About two clicks from the gate. South of the village."

"And Keller's there."

"Yes."

"Walking."

"Yes."

"Talking?"

"Sheppard!" Ronon warned. "What the hell are you going on about?" Ronon turned and headed back up the hill, approaching Jennifer who was now lying curled up across the top of the log.

"Hold on." John muttered, half the conversation muffled with someone nearby. "God damn it!" The Colonel cursed into the com. "I told her…" He cursed again. "Ronon, before you freak out, she's fine. Lorne's team is on their way to meet you. Just… don't her fall asleep."

"Fall asleep?"

"Concussion." John said quickly. "Got cracked across the head pretty damn hard by one of the Fallion militia. Knocked her cold. But she'll be fine… just… keep her awake."

With a loud curse, Ronon dropped to his knees and lifted the hood of the woven cloak away from Jennifer's head. She was curled into the fetal position, her head pillowed on her arms. Placing his hand under her chin, he angled her face into the moonlight. A large, blood crusted gash traced her hairline above her right eye.

His touch started her and she gasped and sat up. "I'm awake!" Then she squeaked to see him so close and nearly fell backwards of the log.

Ronon wrapped his arm around her and eased her back up.

"I'm fine." She brushed his fingers away as they explored the swollen lump. "Ow!"

"You're not fine."

"It's just a bump."

"You were unconscious."

"I was just resting my eyes."

Ronon snorted. "I meant before. When this happened." His eyes narrowed. "What exactly _did_ happen?"

"Nothing."

"_This_ is not nothing."

"I hit my head."

"No…" Ronon snorted. "Someone hit it for you."

"Maybe I walked into a door…"

He growled.

She crossed her arms over her front and glared at him.

"You going to tell me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Cause I know you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you'll be off down that hill blasting holes in stuff. And… well… I just…" She trailed off with a sigh and dropped her head to the side.

"What?" He frowned.

She shrugged and shook her head.

"What?" He asked again, this time with a little less gruffness.

"I just…" She inhaled slowly. "Just wanted to find you."

Ronon shook his head at the soft sound of her voice and placed a quick kiss against the side of her head before scooping her up.

"Put me down!" She ordered.

"No." He adjusted her up against his chest and started off down the hill in the direction of the village.

"Ronon, I'm perfectly capable of walking."

"You just said you walked into a door. Doesn't sound very capable to me."

"I did n… oh." She scowled, then narrowed her eyes at him, the movement making her wince and she raised her hand to her forehead.

"Hmm." He nodded, giving her a scowl.

"What?" She blinked up at him.

"You and I are going to have a talk about this later."

"Talk about what?" She asked innocently.

"Disobeying orders."

"What orders?" She raised her free arm and locked her hands around his neck, snuggling against him. "Memory loss can quite easily accompany a head injury."

Her breath was warm against the underside of his jaw, breaking his left side into goosebumps. "Won't work." He warned.

"What won't work?" She kissed the tattoo on the side of his neck.

"Jennifer…" He growled, twisting his head to the side in an attempt to get it out of her reach.

"Hmmm." She snorted, and dropped her head onto his shoulder.

"No sleeping." He ordered.

"Yeah, yeah." She mumbled.

"Jennifer." He gave her a little shake. "_You_ know better."

"Well then _you_ shouldn't be so warm." She lifted her head with a pout.

"And _you_ shouldn't be so stubborn." Ronon inhaled and walked towards the bobbing beams of the flashlights breaking through the trees in the distance, announcing the location of Major Lorne's team.

"I learned from the best." She smiled up at him, then sighed and shook her head. "Yell at me later." She agreed with a soft shake of her head. "Right now I'm just glad we're going home."

"Me too, little one." He answered quietly. "Me too."

.

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END


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